Thrashings in Paradise

There is a valley in the heart of Italy which the locals call 'Paradise'. On three sides, the snow-capped mountains rise majestic, shining in the winter sun, their foothills clothed with beech woods as silent as a soul at peace. Wild flowers bloom across the fertile fields in spring, and streams of cool, clear water flow on into the long, hot summer, feeding the sunflowers, olive groves and orchards that blossom there in abundance. The harvests are plentiful, the people content and time seems infinite.

At the end of the road that leads up the valley stands an ancient convent whose nuns, for five hundred years, have served Christ with the compassion only women can feel. It is to this convent that the subject of our story made her journey, one summer not long ago.

---oOo---

Jessica had just made a cup of tea and settled down with her laptop when the opening bars of Beethoven's Fifth tinkled from her phone on the coffee table.

The screen read 'Peter'.

"Ah!" she murmured brightly, clicking to answer. She was glad to hear from Peter: it usually meant a chance to earn some extra cash and have an adventure into the bargain. He was the editor of the Spanking Gazette, a niche publication to which Jessica had contributed various pieces in recent years.

"Peter!"

"Jessica! How are you?"

"Good, thanks. And you?"

"Can't complain. In fact, we've had some rather important news. A rich sponsor has offered to provide funding for the Gazette."

"Very funny," he said, sarcastically. "Anyway... what do you know about Dominican nuns?"

Jessica smiled and took a deep breath. "Well, Peter... did you know that the Dominicans were founded as the Order of Preachers by Saint Dominic in 1206? Yes, and Dominican nuns, unlike their brother friars, don't travel or preach; they live a contemplative life following the four pillars of Dominican life, which are..."

Peter cut in with a whistle of appreciation. "Wow! You really know your Dominicans, don't you?"

"Well, I should," said Jessica. "I spent five years at one of their boarding schools. 'Laudare, Benedicere, Predicare'. And not forgetting, 'Piegarsi'."

"Eh?"

"The motto of the Order: to praise, to bless, to preach."

"And the last bit?"

"Piegarsi - to bend over. That wasn't officially part of the motto, but it might as well have been at St Catherine's Academy for Girls, Haywards Heath. They put me off religion for life."

"Gosh! Why don't I know about this?"

"You never asked."

"More to the point, why haven't you written about it for the Gazette?"

"I have!" said Jessica. "In my stories and those pretend letters. It wasn't all imagination, you know."